#matisse
Artists and models,
pimps and prostitutes,
writers and muses,
the noted and the nameless,
in stark black and white.
Under the street lamp,
A stout woman with a dangling cigarette,
her shadow trailing into the dark.
I need a warm place to stay tonight.
On the banks of the Seine,
The lamplighter, making his rounds,
creates the mystery of night
Stairs leading down the hill,
into the fog, into the night.
Gas lamps lighting the way,
for someone who is yet to come.
Lovers in a brightly lit cafe,
sharing a drink and a kiss,
a stolen moment,
oblivious to all else.
Rain and the street glistens
adorned by umbrella blossoms.
Long shadows cast by a rainy city garden.
Matisse and his models.
The Four Arts Ball,
Henry Miller, Picasso,
The Follies-Bergere,
The master himself,
eye to camera,
cigarette dangling,
snap-brim in place,
calf length overcoat on a Parisian street,
recording life as it passes by
A time machine, a graphic history,
all is there for us.
The Paris of our dreams.
Nov 15, 2021
Nov 15, 2021 at 10:50 AM UTC
The calm rolled over our bodies, a lake with no waves,
the birds sang their song.
It was in that crystal moment that I realized that this wasn't going away.
The feeling grows, the song is a chorus, the evening sky
a Matisse, vivid and dynamic.
The cupids dance.
Your hair and skin radiating and me with a grin.
You are Venus and me, I'm the moon.
Venus, I love you.
KT April 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 9:51 AM UTC